Changing Minds
by FatesMistake
Summary: Albus has lost hope in ever changing Severus' mind about Gryffindors...Can Harry succeed where the old wizard has failed? rated for language


The door to the headmaster's office slammed open as a very pissed off Potions Master stormed into the room. Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk unphased, looking up with a twinkling, innocent smile. Snape leaned across the desk menacingly.

"Why did Potter just approach me about extra lessons in Defense?!" The former Death Eater demanded.

Albus shifted a quill that had been unsettled. "Severus, I was merely trying to help Harry in his pursuit of a Mastery in the subject. I'm well aware of your abilities in that area surpassing even my own in certain subjects, and knew that young Harry would benefit best from your guidance."

"Do not patronize me, Headmaster!" Severus spat angrily. "This has nothing to do with my expertise, which you well know lies mainly in the Dark Arts, and _not_ the defense against it."

"Say what you will, Severus, but even if it is not best for every student, I believe that Harry would truly benefit from learning certain aspects of the Dark Arts. He is a hands-on learner, and if he were to learn that 'dark magic' is not so much what the name implies as it is the intent, he would be a better teacher for it. He graduated two years ago, Severus, can you not move beyond your past and look to a brighter future?" Albus inquired almost coaxingly.

"This is not about my past, Headmaster! Potter is an incompetent fool, and I will not be manipulated into wasting any more time on his failed attempts at an education! Why, for nearly ten years, have you persisted in trying to make me see this 'intelligent, good-hearted, loyal' side of Potter that I know for a fact could not possibly exist?" Severus asked.

The aged Headmaster sighed. "How can you say that, Severus? You have seen time and again how much good is in Harry."

"I have seen him defend himself, Albus," The Potions Master sneered. "And put the lives of others at risk because he was too selfish and idiotic to allow the adults around him to handle the problems meant for more experienced wizards. I have seen him throw himself in front of an enemy foolishly, risking his life and those of others, because he couldn't leave well-enough alone! I have never once seen Potter in this light you so blindly portray him in. He is a Gryffindor, and like his father, dogfather, and every other degenerate, cruel, foolish lion, I can't imagine he has a single redeeming feature." He began to leave the office.

"Severus, you must let go of this old house prejudice," Albus called pleadingly.

The Potions Master turned back at the door and sneered icily. "Are you speaking from experience, Albus?" The door to the office slammed closed behind him.

The old wizard sat unmoving for a long moment before burying his face in his hands. He had done this to his boy, he had helped cause this unerring prejudice. The headmaster sighed in shame as he recalled every time he had sent Severus away from his office, claiming that the Marauders were just being boys, and that the young Slytherin was simply blowing things out of proportion. If nothing else, after so many betrayals and hurts at the hands of Gryffindors, Severus was right in that Albus could never change his mind about Harry…but, perhaps Harry could.

Severus didn't at first notice the secondary presence in his office as he retired there following classes a few days later. When the turning of a page finally caught his attention, his wand was already in his hand, pointing at the intruder he'd failed to notice. To Potter's credit, he didn't comment on the slowness of Snape's reflexes, only stared back blandly.

"Why are you in my office, Potter?" He hissed angrily. The students had been especially unruly in their classes due to the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend, and the Potions Master was in no mood for what was sure to be an idiotic discussion as Potter tried and failed at convincing him to once again try to teach the brat.

Potter set the book he'd been reading in his lap, his finger marking his page. "Albus owled me saying you wished to speak with me immediately following the end of classes. Since I know that tardiness earns no favor from you, I thought to be waiting outside your door. However, since it was unlocked, highly unusual on your part, I assumed that you did not wish for the whole school to know of my being here, and decided to wait inside. I apologize if I thought too much of your leaving your office unlocked, but it did seem unsporting of me to remain in the corridor for all of your Slytherins to see."

"My door _was,_ locked, Potter, do not lie to me," Snape told him angrily, not lowering his wand. The boy had changed outwardly, his hair, no longer a ragged mess, tamed and wavy as Lily's had been, his features sharpening to the point that one now had to look for the resemblance to James, but he was still a lying little sneak if he thought Severus would ever have left his door unlocked.

"I assure you, Professor, it was not. Had it been, I would never have been able to get in, as I'm not the best at dismantling wards. In fact, I honestly believe that _had_ it been locked, no one short of Albus himself could have gotten in without invitation," Potter responded calmly. Despite the wand still pointed at his heart, the young Gryffindor had not once allowed his eyes to stray from Severus' dark, angry pools of black.

Severus was forced to concede that, no matter how much he recalled locking his office door, Potter had to be telling the truth. Albus was the only one who had ever successfully taken down his wards, and if the barmy old wizard had set up this meeting, it stood to reason that he would do it again for Potter's benefit. After a long moment where Potter hid easily the touch of nervousness he must feel at still having Severus' wand pointed at him, the Potions Master reluctantly sheathed his wand.

"I did not call this meeting, Potter, and thus having nothing of consequence to say to you, nor do I wish to hear what you have to say. You may leave the same way you came in," The former spy said smoothly, moving to sit behind his desk.

Potter shrugged and leaned down to replace his book in a messenger bag at his feet. "I hadn't thought you'd called this meeting, it seemed out of character for you. The biggest hint was, of course, that you had supposedly asked to meet me immediately following classes. Whilst I know the DA doesn't compare to the stress and concentration required for teaching potions, I do know that no matter the subject, after only a few hours of teaching one can become exhausted. However, I will say that I appreciate your not hexing me when you had the chance, and thank you for, at the very least, giving me the chance to explain myself. I apologize, sir, and hope that Albus' manipulations, and my foolishly falling for them, have not inconvenienced you too much. Good day, Professor."

Snape was taken aback by Potter's diplomatic response to basically being told to bugger off. Finding himself intrigued, and regretting the action even before he had done it, he stopped the young wizard before he had even moved from in front of the desk. "Potter…" The lad looked at him expectantly. "I may regret asking, but what, exactly, is it that you are studying that Albus would suggest _me_ as the best source of information, when there are other sources you could seek out?"

Potter gave a slight half-smile that made Severus frown. "The Dark Arts, Professor. They are inherently necessary to my research." He turned from the desk and reached the door before Severus stopped him again.

"What could you possibly be researching that you must know the Dark Arts?" The Potions Master inquired hesitantly.

Green eyes flashed sadly over the boy's shoulder, sympathy and guilt buried deep beneath a façade of happy calm as the younger man answered softly. "The removal of the Dark Mark, sir. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Professor."

The Gryffindor was gone before Severus could process what he had just been told. Why would Potter be researching a way to remove the Dark Mark? The Defense Mastery didn't require _new_ spell work, only evidence that you could think on your feet and be creative when necessary, using spells to your advantage. What had Potter written in his request for approval to convince the Mastery board to allow such an unorthodox deviation from the usual testing? And why would he have bothered? Realizing that the answers to these questions had just walked out of his office at his command, Severus leaned back in his chair, frustrated. He would have to speak to the brat about it…and the brat had just enough Slytherin in him to use those questions to receive at least cursory training.

Severus pulled back the sleeve on his left arm and ran a finger over the eternally dormant reminder of his greatest mistake. "Damn."

A week later saw Severus sitting bored in the staff room as he endured yet another pointless staff meeting. The time would be better spent on his experiments, or even grading papers, but Albus always insisted on his attendance. For the most part all that was typically discussed were unruly students (inevitably almost entirely Slytherins, and even Severus was hard-pressed to deny the reality of his student's activities) and chaperoning requirements. This meeting had thus far been no different.

"As Herbert has become suddenly and violently ill, the students need a replacement from among you to chaperone this weekend's trip to Hogsmeade," Albus said smoothly.

The Potions Master scoffed. The _students_ would prefer no chaperones, he was sure, and it was a pointless endeavor in any case. Considering the wide range over which the students could wander, it was impossible for the assigned chaperones to truly keep an eye on them. Their presence barely acted as a deterrent, and was almost wholly just for appearances. Realizing the usual response from the more annoying teachers had not come, Severus looked up from where he'd been staring dully at his arm rest. The eyes of the entire staff were trained on him.

"Severus, did you hear me?" Albus asked, his eyes twinkling maddeningly.

Severus frowned, but refused to shake his head and look guilty, despite feeling a bit like an unruly student himself in this moment. Sometimes it was unsettling, being the youngest member on the staff. "I'm afraid I allowed my mind to wander, Headmaster, forgive me."

Albus smiled. "It is no matter, my boy, I was simply saying that, besides myself, you are the only one whom I know to be available this weekend. As such, you-"

"I am sorry to correct you, Albus," Severus said, not relishing being forced to share his plans for the weekend. "But I am afraid that in the last few days my availability over the weekend has been severely diminished. I had meant to discuss the matter with you following this meeting, as I will likely be missing several meals and will not wish to be disturbed."

The Headmaster frowned. "Now, Severus, I realize that your experiments are vital, but our first duty must be to the students."

Severus had to swallow a second scoff as he considered that Albus had never once volunteered to chaperone, despite almost always being free on Hogsmeade weekends, and almost always going down to the village anyway to revel in the merriment of the students. "I fear you are mistaken, Headmaster, as it was not my experiments to which I was referring. I was, in fact, speaking of the education of a student."

"Any detentions could be transferred to another professor, or moved to another date, Severus," Albus told him dismissively.

The Potions Master realized he was being manipulated into stating aloud what exactly his weekend plans involved, and selfishly held those plans close. He would not give the barmy old wizard the satisfaction, and would probably be manipulated into chaperoning besides. "Whilst it was not a detention to which I was referring, Headmaster, I will inform the student that our lesson must be interrupted for the benefit of the school," He said with a false humility. He watched with pleasure as the Headmaster's eyes dulled with disappointment, seeing no reason to satisfy the man's curiosity.

After a moment, Albus continued with the meeting. "If none of you have any other matters you wish to bring forth, this meeting can be called to a close and we can retire to enjoy what is left of our Friday evening."

The majority of the staff remained quiet, but McGonagall spoke after a second's hesitation. "I suppose it might be before it's time to ask, but if Rawlins does not recover before the end of the weekend, who should we expect to cover his classes? Surely, Severus will not be asked again, as he required a Time Turner when he was substituting for Remus' classes."

"Ah," Albus said excitedly. "I had quite forgotten, thank you, Minerva. Yes, as it is apparent that a quick recovery from our dear Defense Professor would be too much to hope for, and as Severus should not be forced to spread himself so thin for the foreseeable future, I have commissioned a temporary replacement who, in fact, will serve as Herbert's assistant when the old boy recovers."

It was Flitwick who protested. "Surely you have not hired someone who has not already attained their Mastery, Albus!" The diminutive Charms professor squeaked with surprise. "The Seventh Years alone would likely scare the lad or lass off within a week!"

The manipulative Headmaster chuckled. "Be at ease, Filius, please. Whilst I am sure any other Mastery student would indeed be driven as mad as myself attempting to rally the students without some form of present support, I feel confident that our very own Mister Potter will be quite capable of handling the students. After all, he has more experience than half of us in the subject, and has proven in the past that he's able to teach even in the most stressful of circumstances."

Severus groaned as the majority of the staff lit up at hearing their Golden Boy would be returning to Hogwarts. All of the teachers began whispering excitedly about the expected homecoming, and giving the brat a proper welcome. Pomona and Poppy seemed especially keen on throwing the boy a surprise party after he had settled back into the school. Idly, the Potions Master wondered why Potter hadn't mentioned this to him in their correspondence. After several minutes, Albus called for the room's silence.

"I am glad that you are all excited over young Harry's return to Hogwarts, as I have some dismal, and yet exciting, news. Herbert Rawlins, after thirty years at Beauxbaton and two wonderful years here, has decided to retire after this term," The Headmaster informed them sadly. There were murmurs over how the old man deserved the rest of retirement. "However, Harry has agreed that, should he have finished his Mastery before next term, he would be willing to take the position." The staff applauded happily, Severus sneering at any who dared to look at him expectantly.

The Potions Master felt a twinge of betrayal, wondering now if the boy hadn't asked for his help due to his expertise, but because he expected that the man would do enough of the work to earn his Mastery for him. That foolish boy would regret ever thinking he could use Severus as a pawn, as the Potions Master began formulating the many cruel ways he could work the boy to the bone. If the boy wanted to finish his Mastery in a maximum of 9 months, then Severus would make damn sure the boy felt every second of the work required.

A knock at the door to his office pulled the Potions Master from the perusal of his students' essays. He had hoped to get some of his grading completed before he was meant to chaperone at 10, but could suddenly see that hope slipping away. He called for whomever it was to enter. He was unpleasantly surprised to see Potter come through the door, closing it behind him.

"Potter, I explained in our correspondence that I would be unable to give your first lesson this weekend," Severus growled, glaring at the younger wizard.

The brat only smiled politely. "I know, Professor, and I'm sorry for interrupting what little time you have free before the student's go to Hogsmeade. However, I was confused by some of your instructions, and since the point of this endeavor is to learn, I thought I should ask, rather than make any assumptions."

Snape sighed, realizing he'd brought this interruption upon himself. "What is it, Potter? Speak quickly, I wish to at least make a dent in my grading before my weekend is taken from me by the mewling masses."

"Of course, sir," Potter said, pulling a scroll of parchment from his bag. He unraveled it and held it out for Severus to see. "It's this reading list you gave me, sir. I don't understand how you can expect me to read all nine of these books before next weekend."

Severus sneered at the boy. "Potter, this is the work. If you wish to pursue it, then you must accept that you won't have time to entertain your fans. If you don't think the books are necessary, then by all means, seek help elsewhere, but if you want _my_ assistance, then next I ask you to do something, you will do so without question!" He commanded angrily. He couldn't believe the lazy brat was already trying to skive off the work before it had really begun.

Potter seemed unphased by the angry remarks. "No, sir, that isn't my problem at all," He said mildly. "I am well aware that these tomes are important, it's why I spent last Summer reading them and copying the most pertinent notes. My issue is that it took me nearly two months to complete this list when I read it, and I don't understand how you could expect me to do so in less than a week. I realize I'm not the fastest reader, but even Hermione said it was asking a bit much."

"Whilst that may be true, Potter, it is asking 'a bit much' of me to help you complete your Mastery by the end of next summer," Severus growled. He sneered again as Potter chuckled incredulously.

"Where on Earth did you get that idea?" Potter asked.

Severus furrowed his brow. "The Headmaster made it quite clear last night that you expect to replace Rawlins, following his retirement."

It was Potter's turn to frown. "Why would he tell you that? I told him this last week that, whilst I would love to take the position, I would be unable until I had finished my Mastery, and barring a massive breakthrough, that was unlikely to happen before next term. I only took the post as Rawlins assistant so I could get access to the school's library and Restricted Section."

"It would seem the Headmaster has a greater faith in your abilities," Severus commented sourly, hating that he felt guilty about accusing the boy of trying to use him, even if the thought had never been spoken aloud.

Potter scoffed, sitting in the chair typically reserved for students. "The man's barmy, then, because I've been working at this since I graduated and have only made some minor strides towards even understanding the Mark. I'm not even close to understanding it enough to be able to remove it." The two men sat in a deep, brooding silence for several long minutes before the Gryffindor spoke again. "I apologize, if you were misled, Professor, but I have no desire to throw some glamour charm at the problem and have done with it. I intend to remove the mark, and I will not allow myself to be led astray from this goal by the lure of a teaching position, even if it is Hogwarts. However, my point stands; I have already read these texts you assigned me, and I hope in the future you will take into consideration my previous research, and my need as a mere mortal to sleep and eat."

Severus sighed as the brat waited for instructions expectantly. "I assume you have questions regarding the texts that only someone with experience could hope to answer sufficiently. If…" He hesitated, hating that he was about to give the Gryffindor leeway to ask stupid questions. "If you would like to discuss the information derived from the tomes, and since 'chaperone' is really more of a title than an activity, you are welcome to accompany me to Hogsmeade to discuss what you've already learned." It was as close to an apology as the Potions Master was willing to get, and Potter seemed to recognize it as such.

"Thank you, Professor, I appreciate the offer and accept," Potter told him, smiling. "I'll leave you to your work now, and meet you in the Entrance Hall when the time comes." He got up, still smiling, and left.

Severus groaned loudly when his office was once more left to him. Why did the brat have to smile so much? It was unnerving to see someone so unaffected by his sharp tongue, and even more so when he remembered that it was the same brat who had once been the easiest target to rile. The Potions Master ignored the small voice inside him that insisted it was nice to have someone besides Albus who was so willing to be in his company, and nicer still for that person to smile at him as if he weren't just a greasy old dungeon bat.

The trip to Hogsmeade had gone surprisingly well. As expected, his presence had kept the majority of the students in line, and those feeling particularly boisterous Potter had proven he was capable of handling. At one point a group of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws had begun fighting, and Potter, seeing that several had their wands out, had stepped among them and settled the argument quickly. Even the brat's questions had been keen and oddly on point. Severus had been amazed at the progress Potter had made in his research; progress the boy insisted was useless in the absence of further training.

After they had returned the students to the school safely, Potter had followed him back to his office. There, he had explained exactly what it was he needed from Severus. Apparently, whilst the theoretical information on Dark claiming rituals was plenty, there was very little on the actual markings and how they affected those they were given to. Severus had long ago compiled every book he could find on the old marks and their creation, and had wound up lending half of his library out to the younger wizard. The other thing Potter needed he was unsure he was willing to give, and had told the boy he would contact him by Christmas with his decision. The Wizarding Savior had been disappointed, but understanding, taking the loaned books back to the quarters he'd been given.

Severus opened the door to his quarters. "Potter, why are you here? I thought you were spending Christmas with the Weasley's?"

The boy nodded, smiling softly. "I did. It was loud, and boisterous, and tons of fun, but…well, I've sort of gotten used to my solitude the last couple years, since I've been living in my flat in London, so I came back early this morning. I was working in my office when I realized I'd forgotten to give you this." Potter pulled his hand from his robe pocket, exposing a black velvet box with a silver ribbon tied around it in a bow.

The Potions Master raised an eyebrow and leaned against his doorway. "This is so sudden, Potter. I thought I had hidden my attraction so well, but here you are. Whoever will we get to officiate at this hour?" Severus dead-panned.

The brat only smirked. "I believe Albus is free right now, only I think he might die of shock were we to approach him like this." Severus couldn't help but smirk as well and step slightly out of the way to allow Potter through. The Gryffindor stepped through the door, tossing the small package into the air for Severus to catch deftly. "It's a watch, Snape. I noticed when I was in your lab last month doing my research that you're always looking at the clock, and I have to imagine that sometimes you fail to look up in time. I had the watch specially outfitted so you just have to say aloud when you want the alarm to go off. It's also been preset for the Hospital Wing potions, so you just tell it the potion and the stage and it'll go off when it's supposed to. There's a list of different sounds, as well, in case you're brewing several things at once."

Severus studied the package as Potter stopped in the middle of the room to face him. "That is oddly thoughtful of you, Potter. It must have been difficult to find someone to make this."

"Not at all, Snape, it's just a trinket," He said dismissively.

The Potions Master frowned and looked at the boy. He had, many years ago, sought out a similar timepiece, but had never found anything to fit his needs like this did. Anything that had been similar had been several thousand galleons. He removed the ribbon and opened the box with the soft click that only a jewelry box could deliver. Inside was a solid gold pocket watch and chain, the list of alarm words underneath. Severus picked up the expensive timepiece and was surprised to feel etchings on the back. Turning it over, he read 'Bottle fame, brew glory, and stopper death'.

"From my first class…I fell in love with potions when you said that. The passion, the mystery, the art, all of that held in the words you spoke. I regret that I was never able to master the subtlety required for potion making, but I still love the beauty of it. I thought it only fitting that the first gift that I give you rings with the memory of the first one you ever gave me," Potter said softly.

Severus felt a smile threatening at the corners of his mouth. They were the same words that his mother had told him when she presented him with his first potion's kit, and he had repeated them for every first year class in an attempt to inspire in them what the words had inspired in him. Potter, of course, couldn't know this, as it was Severus' most closely guarded secret, but the gift touched him just the same. He looked at the boy consideringly for a long moment.

"Stay here, and don't touch anything," He ordered in a deep growl. He pushed past the young man into his bedroom, moving to the trunk in the corner of the room. It had never occurred to him that Potter might want to exchange gifts, as they'd been nothing more than colleagues (and Severus never gave without receiving unless it was a very close friend like Albus) for a little over two months. As such, he had no gift prepared, but considering how very much the watch meant to him, he could think of only one thing he could give that might even compare. At the bottom of the trunk he found what he was looking for and moved back into the living area. Potter, surprisingly, hadn't moved from where he'd been standing.

"Sir, I hope you don't think that my giving you a gift for the holiday means that I expect something in return. It's only a trinket, and one I thought you might need. Like getting socks for anyone but Albus," He said hesitantly as Severus approached him.

The Potions Master stopped before the younger wizard and held out the package wrapped in brown paper. "Potter, shut up, and do not cheapen the moment. I had not planned on giving you anything, but…well, I believe that this is yours by right, anyway."

The brat seemed stunned by this, and took the gift curiously. He removed the paper to reveal a small raven pendant made of onyx stone on a silver chain. "Wha-"

"It was your mother's," Severus told him carefully. "I gave it to her for her thirteenth birthday, and recovered it from the rubble the night they were attacked. It seems only right that you have it now."

When Potter looked up, his green eyes shimmered with unshed tears behind his glasses. "I-thank you, Snape…this means more to me than you can ever know." The two stood staring into one another's eyes for a long, breathless moment, neither daring to break the strange camaraderie they had suddenly stumbled upon. The chiming of the clock on the mantle shattered the moment with finality by drawing the young wizard's gaze. "Oh, bollocks, is it that late already? Shit, I was supposed to meet with someone to discuss my research twenty minutes ago and I haven't even got my notes together. I'm sorry, I have to go." Potter made for the door, holding the pendant, still partially wrapped, close to his chest. He started to leave, but Snape stopped him.

"Potter," Severus called without thinking. The striking green eyes swung around to meet his. "You may come here again, before term starts. I will answer your questions."

A grin lit up Potter's face and Severus could swear the room was brighter for it. "Thank you. I really appreciate it, this, everything. More than you could know, Snape." He left quickly.

Severus stood where he'd been left in front of the fireplace. He wasn't sure when Potter had begun calling him by his surname, it had never occurred to him before now. It couldn't have been long -a lapse in speech, perhaps, while they were speaking about the young man's research, uncorrected and thus given permission through omission- but it sounded nice. He had heard Potter call him 'Snape' many times in the past, when the younger wizard had been a student, but the name (a means of defiance before) now held an almost reverential respect in the tone, a respect that Severus would have thought Potter incapable of. Shaking himself from these thoughts, the Potions Master pocketed the invaluable gift he'd been given and moved to his office to finish his Holiday grading.

Potter returned two days later with a spelled quill and a long roll of parchment. Though still hesitant about sharing this part of his life with another, Severus was not about to back down from the spoken promise of answers and led the young man into his living space to sit comfortably before the fire. For several minutes whilst Potter set up his quill and parchment between them, Severus watched from his armchair unmoving. Did the other wizard know how much these answers would hurt?

Finally, Potter sat up straight in his own armchair and faced him. The sympathetic curiosity in his green eyes was unnerving. "If I push a point too far, please let me know. My research should not be an excuse for my prying where you'd rather I didn't go," He said clearly.

Severus frowned, suddenly agitated. "Potter, I did not agree to this interview because I felt like sharing, these questions are going to open up a past I had hoped to keep deeply buried. This is purely because I wish to see you succeed, if you are at all capable of it beyond your typical incompetence."

The harsh commentary on the young man's abilities was ignored as Potter tapped the quill between them with his wand. "These questions will relate mostly to the Dark Mark, though we are likely to have to delve somewhat into its effect on your person. First, I have to know if the marking ritual was the same for everyone, or if it varied by counterpart."

"It varied greatly," The Potions Master answered without hesitation. "It was based on your level of initiation. For the younger initiates it was merely a placing of the Dark Lord's wand to the skin. If you were older, or deemed more important, you were required to recite an oath of loyalty during the branding. If you faltered in the slightest, you were killed immediately."

"So the oath was for more voluntary binding." It wasn't really a question. "And it was especially important to the ritual, otherwise the faltering would be considered less important, or the oath said afterwards. What about promotion within the ranks? Were there more rituals the closer you got to the Inner Circle, or was the original binding all that there was?"

"I was initiated into the Inner Circle, despite my age, due to my prowess in potion making. However, I was required to attend the recovery of several initiates over time. You see, if there was doubt in the witch or wizard about their loyalty to the Dark Lord, then the magic of the initiate would try to reject the mark. Depending on the level of doubt, the hosts magic would sometimes make them feel such severe pain as to kill them. But, from what I'd seen, the branding was done only once. If you were promoted within the ranks, you were given gifts that, while very useful in the Dark Lord's service, would implicate you if you were to turn tail," Severus explained. "For initiates taken against their will and kept under the Imperio, the ritual was different. The spell, specifically, was different. While the Dark Mark is black on the skin, when it formed on a willing participant it was green and would darken to black as your magic accepted it's enslavement, but on an unwilling participant it would start out as black, not allowing the person's magic to accept or reject it. After it formed, though, within an hour it would vanish, and not appear unless they were called. When the Dark Lord fell, their marks remained gone."

A dim light started in Potter's eyes. "Really? Then…But how did the call work? Was the call different for each of the different ritual types?"

Severus nodded solemnly, unconsciously rubbing at his left sleeve. "For the Inner Circle, it was a burn, like laying your arm across a hot stove. With the burn came a deep, primal knowledge of what the Dark Lord was feeling at the time. He called it a gift, because we were considered the most loyal and he knew that, even if he was angry, we would come. It wasn't a gift, though, it was a taint. The Lower Circle was lucky, their brands would only burn. The ones under the Imperius were different; the mark would only compel them to come. They would suddenly need to leave whatever they were doing and come to the Dark Lord's side."

The dim light vanished as utter confusion overtook Potter's face. "But that's-" He reached down suddenly and began looking through the bag beside the chair. He emerged with a text and began flipping through the pages quickly, skimming through before stopping suddenly. "When you performed the ritual and said the oath, was there a light besides the Mark?"

Severus tried to recall, but found the memory, once concentrated on, slipping away like water through a sieve. "I can't recall."

Potter grinned and set his book aside. "Brilliant. I'll have to look over my notes, but I think this is the breakthrough I needed." He stopped the quill and began packing his things away in his bag. When he was done, he made as if to leave.

"Potter, sit," Severus commanded lightly. The other man looked at him strangely, but did as he was told. "I have answered your questions, and been patient with my own, but I think it is time I get _my_ answers."

The Gryffindor fidgeted slightly in his seat, setting his bag back down. "Of course, Snape. You said you wanted to know how I had convinced the Mastery Board to allow me to pursue this as my Mastery subject, right? Because usually you just have to show expertise by running a specially designed obstacle course or giving visual proof of outstanding ability."

The Potions Master gave a slight nod. "As a start."

Potter cleared his throat. "Well, it's simple, really. There are plenty of thriving witches and wizards out there today who, while misguided in the First War, never wanted to follow Voldemort in the Second. I explained to the board that, had we been able to remove the Dark Mark, we might have had many more allies…and might have saved the lives of those who died for their betrayal. The Malfoy's, for instance, might have been saved the torture they endured had our side been able to remove the Dark Mark. In fact, had we been able to, we might have even drawn some of those who weren't outright regretting their actions, but only doubted the War would end in their favor. The lives we may have saved may not all have supported us, but they would definitely no longer have been in his ranks, giving us the advantage of numbers," Potter explained matter-of-factly. "The board agreed that this would certainly have aided our defense, and signed off on the funding of my research with the condition that I actually remove a mark, since there's no way to prove my theory of shifting alliances."

"I see, and who do you expect to use for the demonstration? Surely you weren't planning to ask me to be your test subject," Severus asked.

"No," Potter mumbled softly. "The reason I left so quickly the other night was because I was meeting with Draco Malfoy. Ginny had told him what I've been doing and he wanted to volunteer to help in whatever way he could, if it meant his Mark is removed. He will be doing the demonstration before the board. Unfortunately, he couldn't answer the questions I asked you because his Marking was Obliviated to protect the memory from Albus, and the Mark itself was never used. As for my test subject…well, that's the answer to your other question, about why it means so much to me to remove the Dark Mark." The man shifted forward in his seat, perching on the edge, and began unbuttoning his shirt.

Severus shifted uncomfortably. "Potter, what are you doing?" He was suddenly convinced that the Wizarding Savior was about to come onto him. He watched as the onyx raven pendant bounced lightly against the golden skin of the young man's chest and swallowed nervously.

"I'm showing you what happens when you fall asleep whilst captured by the Dark Lord," Potter answered simply. He turned slightly on the chair so that his back faced the Potions Master, then pulled his shirt and robes down off his shoulders. There, splayed across the severely scarred skin was a massive version of the Dark Mark, as unmoving as Severus' own. "When he took me from Hogsmeade, he must have done something to knock me out, something more powerful than any spell I know…but when I awoke in the cell, just before the Order showed up, this was on my back. We defeated him before it could ever be used, but I have been looking ever since for a way to remove it."

The Potions Master, who had been mesmerized by the sight of Potter's back, dragged his gaze up to meet the flashing green. "Who knows about this?"

Potter replaced his shirt on his shoulders, then began re-buttoning it, refusing to look Snape in the eye. "Albus, and Madame Pomfrey. I couldn't tell Ron or Hermione, couldn't face the pity I know I'd get from them, and it's been rather easy to hide it, since I don't exactly live in the dorms anymore. I should go, Sir. I think we've both had our questions answered now, don't you?" Without waiting for an answer, the younger wizard grabbed his bag and left quickly, leaving Severus stunned in his armchair.

The Slytherin sat for several minutes listening to the crackle of the fire. The sight of the dark blemish, a symbol of the worst evil the Wizarding World had seen since before Grindelwald, had brought home the idea of just how much Potter had personally suffered during the war. He had been hounded almost constantly ever since he'd stepped foot inside the Wizarding World, first by the Dark Lord's supporters, and later at the hands of the Dark Lord himself. A moments rest couldn't have come easy, and if the scars Severus had witnessed were any indication, the Gryffindor's summer's had likely been less restful than he'd originally believed. The Potions Master retired for the night, his thoughts heavy with the realization that he had not only never noticed the weight resting on that young man's shoulders, but had added to it.

Potter vanished from the school that night. The Headmaster explained to everyone the following morning that the young teaching assistant had asked for time away to pursue a lead in his research, but Severus found himself wondering if he had run from the shame of someone knowing his dark secret. In either case, the winter was over and spring was in full bloom before Severus saw the Gryffindor again.

The Potions Master walked into the library with his usual stern look, unsure why the unpleasant Madam Pince had summoned him. Almost immediately, he was accosted by the very subject of these thoughts.

"Oh, Severus, you must remove that boy! He won't let me see what he is doing back there and I just know he's doing something terrible to my precious books, I just know it!" The insufferable library matron prattled in anguish.

Severus, seeing the few students in the library were quite intrigued by the librarian's sudden apparent mental break, decided that the sooner he was shod of this embarrassment, the better. "Irma, that is enough," he growled, shooting glares at the staring children around the room. "You are a Madame of this school and need to get ahold of yourself."

The woman took a deep, calming breath and her panic vanished to be replaced by fury. "By Merlin, Severus, if you do not get that boy out of my library I will do what the Dark Lord could not," She seethed.

This caught Severus' attention. "The Dark- Irma, who are you talking about?"

"That Potter brat," The matron said, gesturing back towards the Restricted Section.

Severus immediately moved away through the shelves, his pace quick. He had the sudden urge to find Potter and smack him as hard as possible, though he had no idea why. Why should he care if the brat hadn't written once? Why should he care if no one had even known where the idiot Gryffindor had gone? The Potions Master reached the Restricted Section quickly and began searching through the stacks in search of the familiar dark head. He found the Gryffindor near the back, but was disappointed to see two of his Slytherins at a table within sight. It would set a poor example were he to physically attack the idiot. He settled instead for approaching in his most menacing manner.

Potter looked away from his perusal of the shelves, smiling. His robes exposed a length of his chest, the raven pendant still hanging around his neck. "Oh, hi, Severus..."

"What are you doing, Potter?" The Potions Master growled angrily.

"I'm looking for a book," The brat answered simply, running his fingers along the bindings on the shelves. He began to pull one out, but Severus slammed it back onto the shelf.

"Where have you been?" Potter looked at him in surprise. "You abandoned your training, and your students," Severus excused.

The Gryffindor's eyes brightened with understanding, and he brushed Severus' hand away from the book he'd been reaching for, only to move past it to look at more. "Sorry, I had to work on my research. It's not that I didn't appreciate your training and help, but I had something I needed to find, and I only found it last week. As for my students…well, they aren't really mine, but I'll make an apology at dinner."

Severus slammed his fist into the bookshelf. "You couldn't pick up a quill?" He whispered harshly.

Potter gasped and pushed the hand away again, pulling out the thick tome Snape had landed on. "Oh, this is what I needed. Thank you, Severus." He started to walk away, and the Potions Master felt something inside him snap. He slammed the boy back into the shelf with a hand on his throat, breaking the infuriating calm on Potter's face. "Severus, what are you-"

"I was worried!" Snape growled, keeping his voice low.

Potter frowned. "Severus, I-I'm sorry. I was concentrating on the task at hand, I didn't think-"

"No, you didn't! You disappeared for nearly four months without a word to anyone!"

"I don't have to answer to you!" Potter whispered back just as harshly. He pressed forward, only to have Severus slam him back against the shelf again, his hand still on the slim throat.

Severus heard it as the students nearby cleared out quickly, sensing the growing tension. "You selfish, inconsiderate-"

"I didn't want anyone to get hurt!" Potter interrupted. "Any time I've ever gone after something and told anyone where I was going, they've wound up hurt! I couldn't risk that the person who followed this time was you!"

The Potion Master's hand fell and he stepped back in surprise. "What?"

Potter sighed and fiddled with the large tome in his hands. "I was worried about you, too. I was trying to protect you, because the places I was going held memories I knew would hurt you. I was afraid that if I told anyone what I was doing, you'd try to follow, if only to be sure I wasn't getting myself into trouble."

Severus scoffed, unwilling to admit that there was some truth to what the young man said. "So you found it then, this thing that was so important you had to disappear overnight?"

"I did," Potter said, brightening. "It was what you said that night, about not being able to recall whether there had been a second light at the branding. While I was walking back to my rooms, it kept bothering me: why would you be able to remember everything else in such explicit detail, but not that? It jogged something in my own memory, something I'd seen in a book, this book." He held it up, but it seemed to Severus like every other nondescript book on magical brandings that Severus had seen, if a bit bigger. "This is about the most arcane practices, from back when wizards required tools besides wands; when wizards still used herbs, wines, altars…and candles."

Realization dawned as Severus looked from the book into Potter's eyes. "A candle?"

Potter nodded. "A specific candle, one that Voldemort would have had to make himself, one he would have had to keep from everyone. _That's_ why he wasn't worried about anyone removing the mark. He knew that any who tried would require the candle, and only he knew where it was. It took a while to figure out; I mean he wasn't likely to leave it with a follower like he did the diary. But I finally found it, in an old cave near the orphanage where he grew up."

"So you can-"

"It's gone, Severus." The Gryffindor stepped forward and turned, shifting his shoulder clear of his loose robes so that a portion of his back was exposed. It was enough for Severus to see that the Dark Mark was gone. The Potions Master ran his fingers over the scarred, golden skin in amazement, feeling it as a shiver ran up the other man's spine. Potter pulled his robe back over his shoulder and returned his gaze to Severus. "I spoke with the Board…they said that, because I'm using spells from the ancients then it will count towards my proving resourcefulness as well as strategy in defense. I'm to present to them this afternoon. That's why I needed the book, they want my final research. I was going to surprise you after, when I was officially a Defense Master. I couldn't have done it without you. But I…I really do have to go now, I'm going to meet Draco before we head to the Ministry."

Severus took another step back, gesturing for the lad to go ahead. "I have no doubt you will return triumphant." Potter grinned and walked down the aisle. "When you do, I have a request to make of you." The younger wizard looked back and gave a slow nod before disappearing around the corner.

The Potions Master stood for a long moment, simply staring at where the young man had been, unmindful of the soft smile lighting up his features. Madame Pince stepped up beside him with her own soft smile. "He has changed so much since he was a boy." She looked at the normally dour man, who smirked back. "And so have you, young man. I remember when you wouldn't have given a Gryffindor the time of day. But look at you now, willfully seeking his company as if his presence were as necessary as the air you breathe. If I didn't know better, I'd say the two of you were friends. Perhaps Gryffindor's aren't as bad as our House teaches us." She said mysteriously before disappearing into the dusty stacks.

The epiphany didn't come like the stroke of lightning Snape had heard of, but rather as a wave breaking upon the sand. Somehow, in the short five months since they'd begun working together, only a month of which actually spent in one another's company, Potter had _changed_ Severus; where before he would have thought the brat a self-centered, ignorant fool, he now saw an intelligent young man who had earned his respect. It didn't surprise him in the least that Potter had broken the cardinal rule of befriending the Greasy Git who was openly avoided by most everyone else. That brat had never been very good with rules.

When Potter returned from the Ministry, Severus found himself waiting with anticipation on the front steps of the castle. Albus had insisted on waiting with him, despite Severus' protests that he was only there to throw it in Potter's face when the boy failed. The Headmaster had smiled knowingly, but had thankfully kept his comments to himself. Potter approached with a debonair smile.

"I passed!" The Gryffindor announced happily. "They said it was the best display of research and resourcefulness that they'd seen in a long time."

Severus smirked and stepped towards the younger Wizard, only to have Albus step between them, wrapping an arm around Potter's shoulders. "That's wonderful, Harry, I never doubted you for a moment. What do you say to some tea while we discuss your future at Hogwarts as a professor?"

Potter's grin widened, if that was possible. "Uh, sure, Headmaster…I wasn't sure the position would still be available, especially with my disappearing act."

"Nonsense, Harry! Why would I fill the position? Like I said, I never doubted you for a moment," Albus crooned dismissively. "Now come along, we must discuss what will be expected of you in the coming weeks as we prepare for Professor Rawlins' retirement."

"Er," Potter mumbled as the Headmaster began to lead him away into the castle. "A-alright, Albus, if it really can't wait." The younger wizard sent an apologetic glance over his shoulder at Severus and let himself be led out of sight. The Potions Master scowled and headed back to his dungeons, confused about why he'd bothered leaving them in the first place.

Over the next few weeks, Potter was scarce, even his meals being interrupted by some new thing Albus wanted to discuss with him. It seemed the aged Headmaster planned for Potter to permanently take over the Defense post, and with that Albus apparently wanted a complete overhaul of the program. Potter, of course, didn't seem to have any problem with this idea. This left the young wizard little time for anything besides the classes he was still student-teaching, and the homework required for developing a class. Severus understood this, had been through much of the same thing when he'd been hired and had rebuilt the Potions class from the idiocy he'd been left with. What he couldn't understand is how Potter couldn't take even a few moments to have a proper conversation with the man he claimed he owed all of his success to.

It was very near the end of term when an unexpected knock sounded at Severus' office door. He stood, tired from grading final essays, and moved to the door. He opened it to reveal the very source of his anger. Potter smiled sheepishly in the corridor.

"What do you want, Potter?" The Potions Master growled.

"Hi, Severus, I know I've been really busy, and I'm sorry it took me so long to come and talk to you, but I was wondering if we could have that talk we've been trying to have since I got my Mastery? You said, back then, in the Library, that you had something you wanted to ask me?" The Gryffindor reminded him.

Severus sneered. "I haven't the time, nor the patience, to deal with you right now, Potter. You being available does not suddenly make everyone else so. I have final papers to grade. Perhaps, if you can find time in your star-studded calendar, you can return sometime next week, if I'm feeling up to your typical ineptitude by then." He made to slam the door in the selfish brat's face, and was stunned when Potter stopped it from closing with a firm hand.

"That isn't fair, Snape, I can't help that Albus has demanded my attention during every waking moment of these last several weeks," Potter said, scowling. "I can accept that you have grading to complete, but as I now know just when those grades are actually due you can hardly convince me that you can't take a few moments to talk. If you close the door, I'll merely stand out here and carry on my half of the conversation for all of your Slytherins to hear.

The former Death Eater growled in frustration, but stepped back from the door. He waited until Potter had entered and closed the door before slamming the Gryffindor backwards into it with a hand on his throat.

The brat swallowed. "This seems familiar," He said calmly, his voice slightly strained due to the hand restricting his Adam's apple.

"You used me," Severus accused in a dark, angry tone.

Potter's calm shattered, replaced quickly with disdain. "What? I did no such thing, you overgrown bat!"

Snape pushed his face forward angrily so that their noses were almost touching. "You took my help, even thanked me for it, but when it came to repayment you have been unsurprisingly absent! You knew what I wanted, why I had helped you to begin with, and still you have ignored me for weeks!"

"I said I was sorry!" Potter growled back. "It's not my fault if you chose not to hear it! Albus has been running me ragged, wanting this paper and that, and expecting me to do half of Rawlins grading while I'm at it, not to mention attending the actual classes to help the students! If you weren't so bloody self-centered you might have-"

Severus slammed his lips onto Potter's without thinking, effectively cutting off the Defense Master's diatribe. Before he could think to pull away, deceptively strong arms wrapped around his shoulders, drawing him closer. He pressed his body roughly against the other man's, pinning him to the door as they each attempted to devour the other's mouth. The kiss was raw, and angry, hands pulling and tugging at one another as if they couldn't get close enough. After several long moments, Severus backed away quickly, putting a few steps distance between them.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Potter gasped, breathing heavily.

The Potions Master sneered. "Eloquent, as always, Potter. It was a momentary lapse in judgment, nothing more. Now get out."

The Gryffindor gave a breathless scoff of disbelief. "Like hell! I've wanted that since Christmas Hols, I'm going to bloody well savor the moment."

Severus was struck speechless, certain he had heard wrong. "What?"

"Well," Potter swallowed thickly, finally catching his breath and straightening against the door. "Why else do you think I left without at least telling you I was doing so?"

"You said that you'd been afraid I'd follow," The Slytherin Head of House excused, frowning.

The brat had the audacity to smirk. "Yeah, that's why I couldn't tell you _where_ I was going. I saw where your mind went when I showed you the mark at Christmas and realized that I would have _preferred_ that my motives were more…osculatory."

The stroke of lightning Severus had missed in the library struck now, sending a resounding crash through his mind. Potter had wanted the kiss. More importantly, he had just kissed the Gryffindor rather soundly and he'd be damned if he didn't want to do it again. He had no idea when, but at some point he had become abundantly attracted to the man before him. Making a decision, he moved forward quickly and pressed the younger wizard back against the door again, claiming the beautiful mouth once more.

Potter's arms retook their place around Severus' shoulders, strong fingers burrowing into his hair with an almost desperation that this kiss not end as abruptly as the previous one had. As they practically fed on one another's passions to fuel their own, Severus considered that six months ago he'd have thrown Potter out on his ear merely for being a Gryffindor. Now, though, the Defense Master's House seemed to matter very little…especially if he could maneuver his tongue like that in other situations. Somehow, in what amounted to very little time actually spent together, the brat had managed to change Severus' mind about how incompatible Slytherin and Gryffindor were. Who could have known that Potter would have such a profound effect on his time-worn outlook?


End file.
